


To Be touched

by LynnAsha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 06:18:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynnAsha/pseuds/LynnAsha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sirius' death, Harry finds life a little hard to cope with. and what happened when Voldemort had entered his body in the Ministry? Why was he able to... </p><p>AU, Slash, Character Death. Comeplete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Plot:** Through their connection, many things happen.  
>  **Prompt:** watch?v=dRNbXaZo4rM - Pink - Fingers  
>  **Rating:** M, for Mature. [/straight face] okay, this has suggestive content in it, so its rated such to take precautions.  
>  **A/N:** okay, this is obviously a little AU[alternate universe] because canonism is so awesome to mess with... it'll be obvious which part i cut out. By the way; i'm making harry just a tad older, 16, because... well, he'd still be 15 and that just... no ._.;  
>  I hold no rights to the characters or places used, just the plot. K'thanxbye~  
> P.S. oh yeah, they might speak parseltongue; I might go back and edit this after i'm done posting  
>  **word count aimed for:** 3,727/5k  
>  **Word Count:** 3,727 [none of the above is added]

Crazy. When Harry had told them all, he was soon dubbed as a crazy hero.

When summer finally rounded its ugly head, he was sent back into hell. the Dursley's were away for the next two week, leaving Harry defenseless and terrified for his life. It was Monday, meaning the torment just started. He knew it was truly crazy but he would have rather waited on his cousin hand and foot then be left to his own thoughts and paranoia. Whenever he closed his eyes, two things stood out in his mind; Sirius' death, and the fact that the Dark Lord had been inside him. He didn't realize just how disturbed he felt until after words, when he got a chance to finally think about what happened. one can say that he had almost come to terms with such... things happening. He was the-boy-who-lived, if he could survive a killing curse, he would definitely survive this.

Slightly shaking, he gets up from his bed, and goes over to where his owl stood on his bed post. Hedwig must have been hungry harry decided, as he slid open a dresser drawer to get her food. He needed something to keep his mind off of certain things but he was scared to leave the house. He had been told that this was the safest place for him, it had the wards and everything needed to keep all unwanted things out. At least thats what he was told. Looking around the moon lit room, his paranoia was telling him that he was being watched. Shivering, he wished he had a curtain. Would the Dursley's mind if he left his room? As Harry looked towards the hallway, it looked so much more welcoming.

He hadn't realized it until it happened; his body was frozen, and he wasn't seeing anymore. Pain surrounded him like a cocoon but he was to weak to cry out. when his eyes opened he realized he wasn't seeing through his own set, but... someone outside. Who knew that paranoia was actually telling the truth? From his shock bloomed curiosity, he wanted to know who- the thought stopped dead as he was suddenly trusted back into his own body, seeing through his own eyes. Scrambling up, he heart beat accelerated as he turned towards his bar free window. When had those been removed? he wondered and took three timid but long steps towards the window.

His throat constricted as he attempted to swallow. What was he doing? There was danger out there! but no matter how scared or horrified he felt, his feet kept on their course to the window. It suddenly felt as if dry ice set its own coarse through his veins as he unlocked the window. red suddenly tinted his cheeks as he gulped, pulling open the window. 'the barrier only keeps out the unwanted' he murmured to himself as a gush of cool air surrounded him, making him step away from the window. Had it been a windy day?

When harry closed his eyes, he missed the figure that had materialized there, draped in black and dark green robes. the man held himself with a grace familiar to harry, his wand held between his middle and index finger as his arms were held wide. was he expecting a hug? Harry Potter looked up and into the crimson eyes of his enemy, the Dark Lord; Voldemort. His mind was hazy, as if everything was all right. As if everything was going to be okay. why was he thinking such things? Without even realizing, his legs gave out under himself as he lost touch with reality.

-Break-

Touching, tracing and feeling; someone had their hands on him and he didn't want it to stop. He liked the way it felt, so much that he didn't dare open his eyes, lest the illusion be shattered with his dreams. when unsaid person suddenly fluttered their fingers across his neck, he couldn't help but let out a low whimper, and the other person chuckled; it was a dark sound but it happened lightly.

"i know your awake" the voice hissed out, and his mind filled with dread; not for being caught but because of who was with him. The second it came however, an over powering feeling, the haze, came with it. Opening his eyes, Harry met familiar red ones. in Harry's mind, he realized that he should be cowering in terror, kicking and screaming trying to get away but he wasn't. He was currently on his own bed, his enemy over him, feeling him, Touching him, tracing him. As Voldemorts hand dared to slip under the teenagers shirt, Harry hissed and arched his back at the sensation his enemy was creating in his navel. it was like liquid pleasure was being pumped to the very places that the older mans hands touched.

"please stop" he whimpered lowly, as if he didn't really want to be heard.

"Why would i do that, Potter?" the voice was seductive; it held a husky undertone that somehow make harry just melt. If his eyes had been open, he'd notice that Voldemort had been smirking; or smiling, one or the other. With another whimper, things went blank, and one could obviously say that both men had been over come with lust, or perhaps something more...

As night turned to dawn, and dawn turned to day, a certain boy would find himself exhausted and sore all over. His glasses were somewhere on the floor along with his clothes so he couldn't see, and the person who he had shared his bed with was no one to be seen. Now that the haze was gone from his mind, he could think properly again, despite being dead tired. As he tried to swallow, pain was evident in his throat. He slightly remembered shouting, screaming and moaning and a groan came to him. He tried his best to ignore the pain and questions that welled up within him as he attempted to role off his bed and get something to cover himself with. His sheets and blanket had been torn, and what they were used for was obvious when he looked at the bruises lightly lining his ankles and wrists. If he remembered correctly, his eyes had also been covered.

Shivering, but not from the cold, he located his glasses and one of his school robes. Slipping his arms through it, he knew it was a bad idea to stand, but he wanted to shower; to get that disgusting feeling off and out of him. It was wet, and gushy in a way, and uncomfortable. Attempts one through twenty nine failed, so he settled for a slow crawl and finally made it to his destination. when he was finally under the hot water, scalding his skin he let himself flood with questions. How, Why, Why and what?

how did Voldemort even get passed the barriers? Why did he bother coming if he wasn't going to kill Harry? Why did he do... do all those obscene things? and what was he going to do now? the the uncountable time, he shivered under the hot water. One, because he realized that he liked it and two, because he wanted it to happen again. at the mere thought of such things happening once more had him a little 'happy', and as he relived the worst, yet best, night of hs life, he pleasured himself; losing himself in his own selfish pleasure.

When Harry finally found the strength to get out of the shower and dress, he decided that t would be best to tell Ron and Hermione just what had happened. Ron because his mother was a part of the order and he might have the sense to tell her, and Hermione because she could probably figure out what was wrong with him and why the wards hadn't worked. As the owl left his front door with both letters, He felt dread pass through him again. a big chunk of his brain was telling him that telling Ron wasn't the best idea, because if he did tell his mother, he wouldn't come back again and if he told Hermione she'd notify Dumbledore somehow. Suddenly foreign anger surged through his body, and he felt like ripping his own throat out.

Just as it happened the previous night, his body fell to the ground unresponsive as he saw through Voldemorts eyes. He was some place dark, handing out random punishments to masked Death Eaters. the screams satisfyingly filled the air, and to Harry's disgust, he realized the satisfied feeling wasn't his.

"you damn brat, how could you?" the voice hissed out in a language Harry new as parseltongue. then just like that, Harry was thrust back into his own body, this time he felt that same pain he had in the ministry, when Voldemort had somehow disappeared then entered his body; stealing away his thoughts and privacy. Standing and going back into the house, he let himself slide down the door as he whimpered in pain. it was both physical and mental; Voldemort was playing his guilt over and over in his mind, telling harry it was his fault Sirius was dead. f only harry hadn't got to get the prophecy, if only he had stayed in Hogwarts like a good student... if only he hadn't risked his and his friends safety... oh dear god. Why dd all bad this always happen to him? Why only him?

in his Delirium he couldn't realize that they had talked in into it; in his mind, it was playing out as if it was all Harry's fault, the fact that they had all been at wand point, on the verge of dying... He let out a strange cry of pain.

"Please stop" he cried as sobbed racked his body. "Please stop" he whispered, still fighting through his pain that had opened the waterfall. it wasn't the physical pain that made him cry, it was the mental. the chuckle in his head was almost reassuring, and it felt like he was being embraced, although no one was near him.

"Join me, boy-who-Lived, and you'll never have to feel such pain again." he heard Voldemort whisper in his head. the malice in his voice was easily masked by the lust. Through the pain, Harry couldn't do anything but agree. Five years of training to take down Voldemort was going down the drain, he realized that, but no matter how they tried to harden the boy into a man, it couldn't be done.

Harry didn't question anything from then on out. When he opened his eyes and sat in front of his ex-nemesis, he lowered his head, raised his hands and begged to forget. He didn't want to remember the pain that was plaguing his every thought at that moment, whenever he tried not to think of anything, his friends appeared before him, dead as if they had all suffered the killing curse. They would point their fleshless fingers at him and accuse him of killing them. Harry didn't realize until it was too late, and Voldemort's wand was pointed right at him, that there were other ways of running from his point.

"Obliviate"

-Two Months Later; August 4th-

From the boy-Who-Lived to the boy-who-Conquered, People feared their savior of the light. He no longer felt pain thanks to Voldemort's wand.

Donning a black cloak with his hood up and a mask over his face, Harry was probably one of the most unrecognizable people, even if he looked like the other death eaters, he was the only one who stood by, and answered only to Lord Voldemort. Most of his days consisted of a familiar haze, lessons and sex. Had harry been in the right frame of mind, he mind have actually fought back, or maybe even getting himself free of his 'prison'…

Stepping out of the Malfoy manor, Lucius behind him hidden behind that familiar Death Eaters mask, he was out for blood. He rarely talked, and when he did, his voice sounded menacing and… just different. Every fiber in his being was screaming at him, once again, that everything he was doing was wrong. It was all wrong, but why was he feeling like that?

"Potter, if we don't leave now, we'll be late again, and I will not be lashed at because of your incom-" Harry whipped out his wand in less than three seconds and had it at Lucius's throat. He hadn't realized that he stopped until the blond and talked to him.

"Don't." When it came from Harry's mouth, it sounded more like a growl then actually wording. It suddenly got him wondering, why was he being so touchy today? Not just today, Harry realized. If he thought about it, He could tell that his attitude had been getting very restless as of late. Something was wrong, he wasn't doing what he was born to, and he could feel that deep in his soul. What would Lord Voldemort do if he found out?

Releasing Lucius, Harry quickly stalked to the apparition point and disappeared.

Harry didn't know why, but he had to block his thoughts from his Lord. He knew, somehow, that if Voldemort knew what he was thinking about, feeling, even if he was a bed slave, he'd be punished. Gulping back his fear, he steeled himself again the light as he stalked into head quarters.

"Welcome back" he heard Voldemort hiss in his head. The familiar feeling of ice running through his veins almost had him in a cold sweat as he continued forward, leaving his mask on. People wouldn't believe, but Voldemort was actually really good at reading people's faces. Entering the meeting all, he felt Lucius bow behind him, but Harry went right up to where Voldemort sat and kneeled, his head down.

"My Lord." He whispered, half scared, and covered with pride. Standing beside the man, he watched as the meeting took place. Why did he feel like he didn't belong there? Why was there that… that urge to run as if…? Guilt welled up inside him and he almost choked trying not to whimper.

-Skip-

Beautiful; the woman in his dream was beautiful. Her eyes were jade, darker then his and her hair was sleek, long, and red. It reminded Harry of fire somehow. The look in her eyes was disappointment, and that's when he noticed the man beside her. It was almost like looking into a mirror that showed you what you'd look like had you been older… the mirror of Enrised. Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi passed through his head and he gulped.

Why was it so familiar? Who was that woman? And that man? Were they his parents? Voldemort had told him that his parents were dead; albeit, quite cruel. If that was so, why did the wo- his mom look so disappointed? Just as he was about to open his mouth to ask, a moan escaped his lips and he was suddenly back in the real world. Something was and wasn't right; that's all that Harry knew.

Everything was familiar. The touch he felt and the feeling he got. Voldemorts touch invoked

"My lord" Harry breathed out, arching his back into the touch. This was something he desired, not those people in his dreams. If what Voldemort said was true, and they were dead, then it was their fault he was who he was for leaving him. Just like Sirius. The thought scared him and he whimpered.

He felt Voldemort's breathe on his cheek; it was cold yet felt just right. Harry let an uncharacteristic like grin spread over his face as he used his left arm to lift himself from the bed, and his right hand was hooked behind Voldemorts neck, making their foreheads meet.

Letting their lips meet slowly invoked a sweet passion that Harry loved to start out with, it would seem. Then just as everything else with the Dark Lord, just emotions didn't exist with him and their kiss turned fierce; both fighting for a dominance that was obvious from the start. Letting himself fall back into the bed, Harry looked up at his lord seductively, just as he had been taught. There were no doubt in Harry's eyes any more. Even if that wasn't what he was born to do, he actually enjoyed it too much to give it up.

As one thing dissolved into the next, curses, hexes and charms were cast either on or around them; it was the game a certain snake like man liked to play. It was rough and untamed and it was devoid of any fluffy love. It was also controlled by a haze. Harry knew he would have to ask about that some day; what was with that blood rushed feeling in his head whenever his Lord wanted something from him?

Just like the many nights harry spent in Lord Voldemorts bed, twilight went to dusk, then midnight before there was any stopping. Just like the first time, he was sore from all the movement, but he had to leave the room. Everything was starting to fall apart in his mind, and he didn't know why.

He was wearing Voldemorts clothing, having been too tired to actually look for his own. A hand was constantly on his head as his free one was holding him up as he walked along the wall. Memories both foreign and familiar flooded his mind; they were all of death, and that woman from his dreams. He wanted to cry out; he was feeling a pain he knew well as guilt. It seemed to have become his acquaintance once more over the past few weeks.

Down the stairs and out the door, he didn't even think to summon his wand until he was almost out of Voldemorts wards. Obviously enough, Harry knew he wouldn't get far without a purpose, so he decided on one. The Order would have answers he wanted; at all their random meet-ups they always told him they were there for him.

Had they planted the seed of doubt in his mind? Is that was he was betraying his lord? The man who saved him? It's your fault their all dead. The voice was so clear in his head, he had to flinch and turn around quickly, wand drawn as if someone had been standing there. His eyes were lined in veins, blood shot. Once more bringing a hand to his head, he steeled himself against the emotions flooding through his body all at once.

"I'm the boy who wouldn't bloody die" he whispered to himself, to reassure himself somehow. He remembered the first month he had been there; no one referred to him by name, but by 'the-boy-who-lived'. He remembered actually lashing out at one of the lesser death eaters and saying those exact words before he had earned any respect.

Shaking his head, Harry didn't want to get lost in his and that strangers memories now; it was hard through, with the emotions coming with them full force. Gritting his head, he disappeared.

-Skip-

It wasn't too hard for him, a formerly light now turned dark wizard, to attract the people he needed. His hair had somehow been pushed back in the midst of throwing random curses and few minor strength unforgivable curses. A smirk appeared, despite all the mice drumming on the inside of his skull.

"I was just thinking about you all." Harry admitted, holding out his wand effortlessly like Voldemort would have. Even harry thought he spent way too much time with that- a searing hot pain boiled through his skull just then and it took everything in his will but the fact that he wasn't supposed to show such emotion, not to scream and shout at the pain.

"How dare you" he heard a familiar hiss in his head. It was familiar, just like one of the foreign memories he was currently viewing.

"I'm seeking answers that one of you has so kindly promised me" with that he threw a Cruciatus Curse at a red headed woman. She screamed into the night sky as she fell to her knees in pure white hot pain. It was weird, but Harry felt the sudden urge to not; it wasn't strong enough though.

"What are you doing?" the hysterical man shouted beside her as he knelt down to help her somehow. "This isn't like you Harry! Fight it!" he shouted again. The name that registered in Harry's mind was: Lupin. Reluctantly he released it and smiled, waiting for an answer. He hoped he'd get it fast, he could feel them coming.

"But Ablus it's our only hope! Oh- Reverto Memoria" Another woman shouted, dressed in the way a 'traditional' Witch would. Was it a c- as the white light that had sprouted from the tip of her wand and quickly snaked its way towards Harry, he didn't have enough time to react.

Like black clouds descending from the heavens, death eaters rained on the Order and suddenly curses and their counters were flying every which way.

But Harry was on the ground, curled up in a ball and a look of terror on his face. It looked mightily odd, seeing as how he was dressed in clothing normally spotted on Voldemort, and he hadn't been wearing his glasses. Actually, he rarely wore his glasses but… why? He didn't know anything and he was scared. It would seen that the Obliviate that was meant to erase his memories had actually suppressed them, and the memory reverse charm McGonagall had thrown at him made the two spells clash and burn; Harry's memories with them.

Closing his eyes to the blurs of the world, he had let go of his wand. It was all up to which side won this battle, or whomever got their hands on Harry Potter first; All that training, all that hard work, all those years of protection, gone. All gone down the drain with his memories… Or So He thought…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hold no rights to the characters or places used, just the plot. K'thanxbye~  
> P.S. There is Parsletongue and spells in this chapter. if it gets confusing, comments and let me know :)  
> Word count aimed for: 6,379/5k  
> Chapter Word count: 2,652

"Harry" The voice hissed soothingly. "You need to wake up now." It continued, as if it was trying to convince them both of something. Light flashed on the other side of his dark red eye lids but he dared not open them. From what his childhood memories could gather of that soft voice was always out to get him, every single time he encountered it. It had been disguised as malice all those times though... It tormented him and hit behind the pain of lashings. "Harry Potter." It was odd, knowing someone wasn't speaking English but knowing what they were saying.

A sound emerged from the back of his own throat, and he decided to open his eyes. They were a mix between blue and specks of red, the eyes he was currently looking into. In his childish innocence that seemed to take over his seventeen year old body, he raised his free hand to the cheek of the man carrying him. They reminded him of the earth, covered in water and destroyed. From then, one by one, the memories came back, from both of his lives.

Tears escaped his eyes, one by one, following the trail out and down his cheek. To realize that you wanted the enemy on a whole personal level was probably the worst feeling one could ever feel; it was worst knowing that one day, they would both have to fight each other to the death. He didn't want to, damn it all, he did not want to!

As he pressed himself again said enemy, he didn't bother take into account what was happening around him. Of course Voldemort stood where Harry once lay, curled into a fetal position. Behind him, from what Harry could see, stood pairs of people holding wands at each other, as if they were going to duel; only problem was that their eyes were fixed upon Harry and the man carrying him, so uncharacteristically like a child. Harry felt his scar burn and that only added to the tears. Closing his eyes, he felt his previous Lords lips coldly brush across the scar. Was he showing care?

Harry dared not ask, instead, he would enjoy the feeling of being carried like a child. Like a child so hopelessly lost that he couldn't possibly be saved, lest he leave sanity behind. Was this bliss? Crying and clinging to your enemy while everyone from both the Order and Death eaters stared on both sides wondering the same thing; what was fuck happening?

I Show Not Your face, But what You desire. That's what the mirror said. So he desired the disappointment of his parents? Slowly but surely, Harry started to chuckle. Of course that's not what he wanted. He valued family over... Over their killer. Then and there he made a decision, no matter how much it felt as if he was tearing his own soul away, he needed to act, and act fast.

"Accio wand" he muttered, holding his hand and just as suddenly as the wand appeared in his hand, he had it to Voldemorts throat. Harry purred and nuzzled the older man, whispering into his ear, "set me down, or I'll attack." Of course the tears still fled through his tear ducts, but that did not stop the malice that painted the younger boys voice. As he felt himself set on the ground, he let his senses over power hm. there was a wet spot just near the back of his neck and he lifted his eyes to the enemy.

Who would have ever thought that tears would fall from freely those eyes? Albeit, looking a little unwanted, but still, his enemy was showing emotion; why? quickly standing up and taking a few steps backwards, people thought it was completely weird, seeing Harry Potter in the dark lords clothing; it was obvious they were just a tad longer then the boy. But how on earth did he come upon him? Obviously the death eaters knew.

As Harry raised his wand towards Voldemort, the older man just stepped back. It didn't matter if he was, for lack of better words, crying, his face was still set in steel. It looked as if the man didn't even know water was making an escape through his eyes, he didn't even blink and his eyes never once left Harry. What had Voldemort seen, done, when he had merged with Harry in the ministry, all those weeks ago? Looking around, he wondered if time had stopped, and why no one was saying anything. He wanted to go, go away and never return. He didn't want to be there anymore; knowing he was causing pain to everyone around, which included Voldemort, he just couldn't handle it.

As chaos once again started around him, Harry turned and started running, knowing fully that, if Voldemort wanted, he wouldn't get very far; couldn't get very far and if he was true to his emotion, he didn't want to. As he was making a break for it, he realizes that he was thinking of why he was feeling… feeling so torn. Emotion pain just never felt so heart wrecked.

"It's because we bonded that night, Harry Potter. It's because our souls are now one... Good Bye." the voice in his head made him come to a stop and turn; in time to see Voldemort turn away wiping the salt water from his face and disappear; one by one, the death eaters not too far behind. Harry finally realized why it felt as if he was ripping his own soul out now, it was starting to somewhat make some sense; He, himself, was rejecting the bond. Didn't that mean the serpent like man wanted it? Fishing back into those odd memories of following the Dark Lord, he realized that; even if their relationship was rough, it always had that undertone of passion, and something else that just never felt like overshadowing the lust. Or perhaps that was just because Harry didn't want to see it till now?

As people gathered around him, he realized that that Good Bye meant it for sure. The next time they'd meet, one of them would die.

-Break-

Three days later felt like a million years. No one knew what was wrong with him, what happened with Voldemort, and why he had even been there in the first place. He was current at the Headquarters of the Order, sitting in front of a fire, just gazing at it. What had conspired only a few days before may have no longer hurt, but it left him feeling void; apathetic about everything.

When he had once again broken into hysterics the second the enemy and co, they had brought him here and placed in a random room that would be dubbed his till he returned to Hogwarts; his friends were currently in charge of getting his possessions from the Dursleys. People thought he was evil, and even threatened to pull their children out of school, Harry heard. He wondered how they were dealing with that... At the thoughts of being evil, he felt a surge of magic, not his own, run through him, before he started tearing up again.

Putting his head in his hands, he sobbed. Why was he such a sissy? it was pissing him off, all this crying and balling and what not. It was annoying to himself, but it just wouldn't stop! Letting out a surge of rage and magic, he stood up and started the wrecking things in sight. Throwing, ripping, kicking, punching and stomping on everything he could get his hands on.

When his fit was over, he slid down one of the walls, and noticed that the door was open.

Days pass into weeks, and weeks into months. If one hadn't known better, they would say that, even under Harry's facade of faux happiness, everyone can see the shadow of bitter self hatred and pity; and the fact that he was lonely wasn't hard to miss. But as hard as it was, life had to go on, whether he wanted it to or not.

It happened during transfigurations. It started with a slight throbbing in his head, then quickly escalated to a mind splitting headache. He believed he was becoming weak, as he fell to the floor, both hands on either side of his head. This wasn't a pain he was used too, seeing as how he hadn't felt it in almost half a year.

Glimpses of what was happening passed through his head as he whimpered. Why was the Dark Lord so mad? Through those small connections, he could feel that he wasn't the only one in pain from their separation. He could tell, just from the situation that he could get slight glimpses at, that Voldemort was irritable and currently angry beyond anything.

It was almost enough to make Harry run back, knowing that if he did he'd be able to get rid of both of their pain. What was holding him back again? He didn't quite remember…

Shaking the thoughts safely from his mind, he noticed that he was in the infirmary. Pomfrey held out a potion for him, and he looked at it as if it was blood.

"you need to keep your strength up Mr. potter, go ahead and drink" she said, in a soothing, yet non-trust-able voice. Harry just continued to stare at it.

"I... d-don't want too." his voice was shaky, and the only explanation was that he was scared; terrified. He didn't know why, but he suddenly wanted to go, disappear from where he was currently sitting/laying.

"It's not going to kill you, potter." she said, somewhat grumpily. Looking around, Harry noticed that there was only one other person there; why was she acting like, like... Fear started creeping its way though his system and he shook his head as he somehow backed away, and got off the bed.

"Please, don't come any closer... i-i don't feel safe." he stated. The last time he had made that statement, and someone had come close to him, he had exploded, and gave that person reason to believe that he was the next dark lord. Poppy knew better then to provoke her patients though. She nodded and put the potion on the bed side table.

"I want that medication gone before I get back." she said and made her way out of site. Why wasn't she meeting his eyes? He wondered and suddenly a voice filled his head, soothing him and reminding him of the connection, the bond they had. Their soul was one, and whenever either of them felt such extreme emotion, the other could see why.

'Don't worry, its all going to be okay' that familiar voice and language floated through his mind, and he noticed that he wasn't in pain any more. 'I'm sorry, I tried not to lose my temper' Harry kneeled on the floor, hiding himself on one side of the bed.

'It doesn't hurt anymore' he thought back, pushing the thought to that one person who had a free connection into his head. He smiled serenely and let his forehead rest on his knees. His heart went cold in his chest, as it pounded a million miles an hour.

Something he had realized a while back was that they were both definitely capable of love. Having such an emotion towards each other, and so damn strongly, was a sign of that; but unlike what Dumbledore always told him, it wasn't enough to save either of them. They were still going to fight till the death; they both knew in their heart of hearts that they both couldn't co-exist in this corrupt world.

'I'd give anything to be beside you...' Harry thought before getting up and started running. He knew Pomfrey wasn't in her office like she wanted Harry to believe. Her magical signature wasn't there...

Voldemort looked around, glaring at anyone who dared meet his eye. He was trying so hard, has been trying so hard, not to let his anger get the best of him. He realized, after that night in the ministry, just how broken his young lover was. Voldemort knew that the light's savior was moving on crumbling foundations, and that was why he had gone to the boy.

In that sick and twisted way, they were alike. Moving on something that could easily break; Harry hid behind his fame and selflessness and Tom Riddle hid behind Voldemort and his anger. Voldemort knew that Harry also knew everything about him, just as he knew everything about the green eyed boy. It was hard not too when their souls had merged for that whole minute or so.

Distinctively, he remembered feeling empty when they separated, and again when harry had provoked that useless emotion of sadness in him. Voldemort closed his eyes as he remembered it all, even through Harry's eyes. Voldemort had looked cold, betrayed, but he knew harry was only doing what he had been trained to.

Love thy enemy; that commandment has grasped at them both, and twisted into some sort of sick obsession they had with each other. The dark lord had found that out when he had erased all of Dumbledore's teachings from Harry, leaving him just as Harry Potter, not the boy who bloody lived.

What had Harry called himself that one time? Thinking back to it, Voldemort was tempted to smile, 'the boy who wouldn't die' or something along that line. It had been quite amusing when he had walked into the meeting hall just in time to see someone cowering in fear just because the savior of light was angry. Voldemort had to think a little harder, but that might have been the breaking point for the Dark Lord.

"My Lord; I- I have bad news" At the sound of that voice, and message, angry and rage whipped through the passed Slytherin like his blood and he instantly sent a Cruciatus at the person saying such things towards him. This is probably why they feared him more then respect; and if Voldemort were to be serious, he really disliked that.

"Speak now and speak quickly!" Voldemort said with venom coating every word. He noticed the connection open between him and harry like a crack in the asphalt and had to once again force himself to sit down and sate his rage; a killing curse at a random lower death eater passing by was almost enough.

"Th-they got him lo-locked in, M'lord, t-they won't even l-let him go-o outside t-t-th-the ca-castle" the man was terrified of another curse, and this just made Voldemort man. All these people he had recruited had some form of Slytherin in them; that self-serving, cunning form that Tom liked so much in his death eaters.

Sighing, he suddenly felt fear wash over him like a bucket of cold water and then he felt a faint snap.

"Your dismissed." the Slytherin Lord said as he got up and left, heading to his private chambers. He hadn't been there to often, seeing as how that's were harry and himself had spent all their time together; but he needed to by away from prying eyes if he wanted to open the connection more, and comfort Harry. That fear Voldemort felt was not his own, and it had cracked the closed connection enough for Voldemort to comfort him.

When Harry had made that brave declaration, Voldemort wished that the closed connection was open; at least then he'd be able to appear beside his love or even possible pull his love to him. As he opened his eyes, he looked to the ceiling, and shook his head. What difference would it make? They were out to kill each other now; and Voldemort was dead set on dying.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hold no rights to the characters or places used, just the plot. K'thanxbye~  
> Word count aimed for: 9,208/10k  
> Chapter Word count: 2,829

When one wants to fight for something… how do they come about it? Harry didn't know the answer to his own question. He wanted to live, and let his enemy live. He wanted to love, and be loved like there would be no tomorrow. And he felt that, but it wasn't from where people wanted it to come from.

If Harry had the choice to relive his life, he would, only to realize that what he was feeling was more real than the boy who lived. He wanted to hold the enemy close, and never let him go; he wanted to kiss him, to touch him, as they had so many times when Harry had been under his protection… Why did harry leave?

Now there was a question he could answer. He couldn't take the fact that there was something wrong. He had hated living with foreign memories in his mind, with the fact that he couldn't show the man proper love until it was too late. When is it, that Harry realized that the strong feelings he had for the Dark Lord where love?

He didn't remember.

Lying in his bed, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the connection he had with his love. That metal like connection he felt, tugged at him and he smiled. He wanted to answer that tug, but he couldn't. The Dark Lord was sleeping; Harry could feel it, almost as if the man was lying right beside him.

Biting his lower lip, he rolled over, and tried to pretend said man was laying there. He felt content then, and let a small smile come to his lips as he let his breath slow down and become deeper.

"Come to me" he felt rather than heard, just before his mind slipped into a subconscious state.

In his dreams, he felt safe, and like he was floating; like he was being caressed by the air that slowly and sparsely ran over and around his body. He dared not open his eyes, as his thoughts were focused on the touch. He was half hoping that it would be him.

He knew it was crazy, he knew that if he opened his eyes he would die, but he couldn't help himself. Even if it was a dream, at least he got to see him. To touch him, and possible taste him once more; just one more time.

The morning light betrayed him as he opened his eyes. It was Saturday, and he wasn't in any mood to get up to the sounds of his dorm mates rustling around. He rolled over just as he felt Ron sit at the foot of his bed.

"Rise and shine, harry, Quidditch practice today and I highly doubt you wanna miss breakfast" and with that the red head was off the bed and on his way back to his own, to finish getting ready.

Grumblings and rubbing his eyes, Harry got out of bed and stretched as he gets his glasses on. Now that the world was more visible, he could tell that he needed to get ready quickly. Making his way to the door, all dressed up in his Quidditch gear. He needed to keep his mind off certain things, and think about what his parents would want, what the innocent people of the Wizarding world would want.

Harry stopped, on his way towards the common room. Conversation after conversation entered his head and he almost didn't hear Ron telling him to hurry up. Harry looked back with a glare, worthy of any Slytherin and continued on his way.

"Sorry, mate, but you're being a little prissy." Ron said as they left the common room and headed down the many stairs.

"Sorry… just a little tired…" he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He heard Ron slight laugh at his side and Harry turned towards the boy he had befriended so long ago. "What?" he asked slightly confused.

"Nothing mate, let's just get on with it" and with a hard pat on the back, both boys were racing for the great hall, both trying to best each other in the merriment that seemed to always be surrounding them.

Practice ended in many scratches and bruises; and oddly enough, Harry didn't really care. He ignored the fact that practically everyone was telling him to go see madam Pomfrey; he didn't want to erase the evidence of his old self; the self that stayed oblivious to this strong pulling feeling he had for the dark lord. He tried his best not to think of such things.

By time supper came around, Harry was famished; slowly getting his apatite back it should seem.

"Hey mate; up for a game of truth or dare later?" Ron asked, sitting down at his left; Hermione at his right. Harry gave a grin and took a bite of whatever was on his plate.

"Count me in." he said, trying to forget the curiosity he felt; it obviously wasn't his own feeling and that was a little scary. Had the bond strengthen some? If so, was that a good thing or bad?

"Its not so much a bad thing unless you want it to be, Harry." The jade eyed boy heard and looked up, he composed his face before anyone seen that he had been caught of guard. Somehow, he didn't really know how, he had forgotten that they could easily peer into each other minds; see through each others eyes and hear their thoughts… and apparently now they can feel each others emotions.

"I don't want it to be…" he said, looking down at his food before he felt a stare. He turned his head to Hermione, the ever observant one as she asked,

"Did you say something?" she asked, placing her fork down and giving harry her full attention. Did he? Harry wasn't so sure; he didn't remember… Unless he had said what he was thinking out loud.

"No, no I don't think I did…" he said and gave her a disarming smile, as if he wasn't going crazy, and he didn't want to be somewhere else at that very moment. She smiled back at him, and Harry knew that he was thinking about the fact; practically see then running through her head.

He patted her head; something totally random that just came to his head and he continued, "Don't worry so much about he; I'm fine, better actually. So, how was your summer anyways?" He felt a little ashamed of himself; a few months into the school year and he was finally getting around to even asking her that very specific question.

"Well…" she said and her face had this huge grin on it; Harry took that as a good thing. As least someone was dancing on the bright side of life. Always self giving, Harry bloody potter, he thought. Who was it that had told him that again? Oddly, as he watched Hermione's mouth moving as she told her story, Harry just couldn't think who it was that had called him that… If he remembered correctly, that was the time he called himself the boy who wouldn't die.

Amusement filled his body, and he definitely knew it wasn't his own emotion.

"That's great, 'mione" he said with a bright smile, showing that he cared, even if he hadn't been paying attention. Then the news came in a burst of words,

"andmeandRonaredating!" It took a few seconds before Harry figured out what she had said, and turned to Ron, who looked beat red and as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Congrats mate." Harry said, giving the boy a hard pat on the back, "When should I be expecting the first?" and with that, Hermione turned beat red and Ron mumbled something under his breath as he smacked a laughing Harry upside the head. It was quite obvious that things were going well between them, and it felt as if they were all forgetting the horror that had taken place during their latest summer.

Sitting in the astronomy tower, his outer school robes wrapped around him, he watched as the snow fell from the sky; each one just as different as humans. No two, as far as he could see, were the same and it fascinated him.

"What are you thinking of, My little Gryffindor?" he heard the hiss in his head. Harry relished in the feeling he got from that foreign language; it sent shivers down his spin, and at that moment, he just couldn't wait to get by that mans side once more.

"Why do we have to be enemies? Why can't we just... work together? Be together?" he thought, and then looked at the ground far below where he was currently sitting. It was amazing to see the snow covered ground below him. It almost felt as if he was flying, and that made him a bit dizzy.

"I don't think you want to take that step just yet, my boy." He heard the familiar voice of Albus Dumbledore behind him. He shook his head as he felt the headmasters hand on his shoulder.

"No, of course not. I was just admiring the view… its quite nice in the winter." He said, the lie rolling off his tongue as if it had been the truth. He stepped back from the balcony and sat Dumbledore stroking his beard in his peripheral vision.

"Some very dark things are going to be happening soon, harry, and I need you to promise me that whatever you do, you will not let him sway you away from the light. You must remember who you are; don't let him take that from you. AS long as you do that, you will find great happiness" Harry turned his head towards the headmaster and tilted his head. He didn't understand what the crazy old man was saying; was he going to die or something?

"Why do you say that, headmaster?" he asked, voicing his thoughts from earlier. The headmaster just smiled knowingly at Harry before turning back to the scene before them both. The sun was shining in, and it somehow made Harry feel nostalgic.

A week had passed, since that meeting in the astronomy tower. Who knew that Harry, himself, would be the last one to talk to the old man? That night, he had died in his sleep, just like harry had suspected. It had something to do with that damn ring he was always wearing, and even their highly esteemed potions professor couldn't stop it. Harry damned the day that man was born, for some odd reason.

It seemed that as soon as he closed his eyes, he was opening them again. Had he seriously slept that night? His head wanted to say otherwise, but he felt awake. Something was happening… but what? He sat up in bed and went to the window. It was dark, but because it was night, which it wasn't, but because of the dark grey clouds covering the sky. This was probably a bad omen. Closing his eyes, he began going through his whole self, trying to find that connection that bonded him and his enemy.

His head beat quickened as he felt the pull. It was as if he was being summoned, and it felt… felt good in a way. Like a feather slightly running over his skin and it sent shivers down his spine. Biting his lower lip and opening his eyes, he looked outside once more. His cheeks were painted a light red and he tried to pry the feelings from his head; the feelings of the other man touching himself, thinking of him, and touching himself to get release. He liked that idea, and wondered if he would get off on it…

Quickly thinking otherwise, he turned to go to the bathroom. He needed to calm himself or else he would be going against what Dumbledore wanted. Stopping suddenly, he looked around; a frown was on his face. What was going against Dumbledore? The old man was the one who always said that love was the most powerful thing… It continued to make no sense to him as he shook his head and made his way out of the room.

To rid the world of evil, is that why he had been born?

Weeks upon weeks seemed to pass in a blur. Time was flying harry by, and he couldn't do anything to grasp it. He wanted it to slow down and let him on; it was scary watching himself go on the way he was. What was he going to prove? He smiled and played around happily, as if he wasn't cracking under the strain of the bond. Is that why he thought he was just watching himself live?

"You ready for the match tomorrow, mate?" Ron asked as they were getting ready to retire for the night.

"Of course! We've been practicing too hard for the past few weeks to let those snakes win!" Harry proclaimed, jumping on his bed, and striking a pose. Everything was feeling way too real at that moment. His roommates laughed around him; things were way too real. "Well; we should get to bed then."

Of course, the next morning came way to quickly, leaving all the boys feeling as if they hadn't slept at all. They were all to riled up it seemed to even rest a little. With minimal grumbling and a lot of cuss words, everyone got up and ready.

"Just go on ahead, i gotta get this right" Harry said and let the rest of his dorm mates disappear into the common room. He sighed and went back to looking in the mirror. there was something off about his outfit and he didn't quite like it; it made him self-conscious.

Harry thought that he was sighing an awful lot lately, and he was starting to wonder of he was coming down with something. It wouldn't be good if he suddenly caught a fever in the middle of a game... he gulped and headed out the door.

The game ended in victory for him, he was quite happy about it. Truly happy, not that blank happiness he showed every day. He was sitting in his dorm room as everyone was celebrating his win down in the common room without him. He didn't mind much, seeing as how he was currently preoccupied with trying to find out what his bonded was currently doing. Sometime after the game, during the celebrations, harry had felt the connection close; obviously temporarily.

That scared him enough to actually excuse himself to give himself more time and concentration on breaking through the connection. It had to have been important if Harry was being kept out. He was dragged back into the real world by a knock on the door.

"Come in" he called out and stood off his bed. It was the farthest from the door.

"Harry?" the feminine voice of Ron's little sister came through the room. Harry paled a little; he knew of the younger girls love with him, but Harry was never one to turn people down. thinking on that, he thought himself even worse then dirt. Dragging people by false hope only made things worse.

"What do you need Ginny?" he asked as he met her halfway across the floor.

"Ron said you weren't feeling well so..." Red hair cascaded over her shoulders as she twiddled her thumbs before herself. Had Ron just try to set them up? that was low; His best friend knew that he didn't like the girl like that.

"I'm feeling just fine; trying to get to sleep but you kinda..." he motioned to his bed where the covers were obviously pulled back.

"Oh... oh.. s-sorry.. then..." the girl turned and quickly left the room.

"Ginny" he called in an even tone, and she turned to him, just outside the door.

"I don't like you like that, i'm sorry, but your more of a sister then anything..." he watched as his words sank into her mind then saw as the doubt and terror and embarrassment flitted across her face in rapid succession. She nodded and left; the door still open.

As he went to close it, the connection opened again, and it seemed weaker somehow. 'whats wrong?' he instantly asked, keeping face and closing the door.

'nothing, my little Gryffindor. Alls well.' Harry heard in reply before laying on his bed. His mind held doubt that the Dark Lord was able to pick up on. 'Just go to sleep for now; all will be well in the morning. isn't that how it always is?' and with that, harry actually went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't forget to comments if this gets confusing!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hold no rights to the characters or places used, just the plot. K'thanxbye~  
> P.S.S ...This might as well be the last chapter; its done through the eyes of Voldemort though. Don't hate me, please x']  
> Word count aimed for: 11,552/10k  
> Chapter Word count: 2,344

He couldn't let his other know, because to know would be to admit to his faults. He didn't want to die, but that was before meeting his younger lover. For that reason alone Voldemort had closed the connection a she went to each and every one of his Horcrux and destroyed then. He learned through Harry's mind that the ring and diary were already gone. He had killed Nagini first, then it was to Slytherins Locket; that one had been hard to locate, but a quickly placed Imperius helped loads.

In his final mission he worked alone collecting the goblet, and then getting Malfoy's boy to get his Diadem from the school took a few hours though. With the remaining four Horcrux's in his possession he destroyed them in his family home; Riddle Manor. The more he destroyed, the more he felt his soul serge together; it felt like he was drinking huge amounts of liquid. It went from the top of him to his toes, until he couldn't feel it anymore. His soul was merging but once it was all done he could tell there was one piece missing. A cold chill went down his spine as he let himself one moment of weakness my himself.

With his suspicions in mind, Voldemort occluded certain thoughts then unblocked the connection. It felt weaker; probably because of the pieces of his soul that weren't part of him when it was forged. That was probably take a few moments to fix up. Why did he even care? in a short while he would be burning on some pyre in hopes that his soul would never return. He let a small smirk grace his snake like features before turning towards the ball room of his fathers manor.

After reassuring His bonded and lulling him to sleep, the Dark Lord threw open the doors and looked around. At once all the ex-death eaters got to their kneels and raised their wands above their heads. Exactly five hours ago, he had taken his mark from each of their arms; whether it was by force or will, it happened. With his Mark gone from their arms, he realized that he truly was Dark.

He remembered how he had joined an ancient group known as the Knights of Walpurgis that had been started by his ancestor Salazar Slytherin. He had turned it from a simple muggle hating group of pure-bloods to a group that actually liked murdering and torturing Muggles and Mud-bloods. He shook his head; he couldn't think of that now.

"Today is the day that we take what it ours." and so started his speech. He wasn't to worried about his army winning or losing; they all had plans amongst each other to help protect each other. Many had to give up their extremest ways or be subjected to banishment and outing.

He couldn't believe what being bound to the Chosen one has done to him; from fear to respected to honored. He was still terrifying but only to those who disrespected or left them. Even through his followers had thought him under imperio at first, they obviously didn't now.

As his speech finished, the grandfather clock all the way in the foyer donged the time; it was midnight, four hours till they all had to meet up in the Forbidden Forest. Four hours till his time was up. He looked at the door the sound was making its way through and then turned back to his army. "Dismissed"

The second the ex-dark lord tore down the Apperation barriers, everyone but a selected few disapperated so Voldemort took his leave.

Tom Movolo Riddle. Thats who he had once more become He was no longer Voldemort, the man he looked to be. He currently stood in front of a body length mirror just staring at himself. His red eyes were piercing, his skin was pale, and his head was bald, but with the pieces of his soul still fusing to his, he would give it three hours to start looking more human; three hours give our take. He couldn't complain.

Closing his eyes he could almost feel, almost see what Harry was dreaming peacefully about. a small smile came to his face; if only dreams came true, this is one that he could share with the boy.

-skip two hours-

Although he was looking more and more like 'Tom' by the minute, he could have gone without having to keep cutting his damned hair. It seemed that it was growing as it would have if his body did not take on its deformed look after his resurrection. It took a while before he figured it wouldn't grow any more and he kept it shoulder length. With he did resemble Harry Potter a great deal, it was obvious he was older, darker. His skin was paler, eyes darker and hair longer.

Was he becoming a narcissistic? he shook his head and decided stepping away from the mirror was best.

-skip two hours-

The hour was finally upon them. Tom had apperated to the meeting point and then people began to join them one by one. With all the dark magic he gave out kept all the magical creatures away and almost safe behind the Hogwarts barriers. With a smirk, and most of his power, he, along with the rest of his followers, threw their magic, breaking the barrier. All around them it was like ash from a fire as they walked.

It fell all around them, almost making a path and praising his very existence. he closed his eyes as he stopped. From all the noise from the castle before them, it was obvious everyone has been alerted. he nodded and the one group that had been following him broke out into two; one to the left of his person and the other to the right.

He wanted them go as he felt a calming presence in his mind.

'don't, call them all off' his bonded said soothingly, trying to stop the inevitable.

'i can't, most are under imperio. without their mark, i can not tell them what to do' Tom wasn't so sure that Harry knew what he was talking about with tom had mention 'without their mark'. He felt Harry's mind practically rub against his for information, and Tom gave it willingly, but nothing else.

With the equivalence of a gasp, harry began talking to him quickly. 'You removed their marks?' and with that the connection was cut and Tom began dueling with the woman who had confronted him. It took a while for tom to realize who it was, but when he did, his face broke out into a wide grin as he began to mock the Headmistress.

With a quickly jinx, which was effectively blocked, followed by a Stupify, Tom began his journey to the Great Hall. The very first place he had felt 'home', and it was were he wanted to die; even if he was dying, through, he wasn't going without a fight.

He stunned everyone whom had crossed his path, thinking him another death eater without his mask and making him feel a little insulted. None of that mattered in the end through.

There he stood, in all his glory was Harry James Potter. He had just downed another one of his army and was now facing Tom with what looked to be disbelief. Tom raised his wand.

"This is the end, Harry James Potter." He felt a pulse and he knew, he absolutely knew that his earlier suspicions were true. Only he would die here tonight.

"Same to you Tom" At least the boy spared him embarrassment with his fathers ghastly last name.

Their wands met in power, each spell hitting hitting and knocking the other into a nearby person or wall. Someone was at both of their backs, blocking them from attempts at their person.

There was two ways Tom could do this; ask or trick. His Slytherin side was just begging to give in and ask for forgiveness from his bonded, but he wouldn't give in. He wanted to be free of his bind that he had forced onto himself.

Would he have gone to Harry that night so many months ago if it hadn't been for the bond he felt? No, that was obvious. He wouldn't have drove himself crazy with want, and that foreign feeling he named love.

He wouldn't have forced his views onto Harry, corrupted him and took him away from his home, his side of this war. Tom Riddle wouldn't have had to hide his love with lust, wouldn't have had to hide from Harry at all, had he not merged them together that night in the ministry.

Out of all the stupidest things he could have done, split his soul, kill his first lover, hunt the deathly hollows, and then break his Horcrux's his split decision to merge with Harry, to gain information and taunt the boy with it was the worst and the best thing that had every happened to him.

As Tom Riddle cast a quickly jinx on Harry, they could both be heard shouting the same line.

"Avrada Kavara"

-1 year Later-

Harry Potter and Tom Riddle; Gone.

Harry threw Tom the paper and laughed as he sat down at his lovers feet, turning towards the fire that was blazing from the hearth as he leaned back to enjoy the silence that had followed him from the kitchen.

After the killing curse had been cast those many months ago, Harry potter and Bellatrix Lestrange had died; much to Rudolphus' dismay, his wife never really loved him it should seem. Hell had broken loose among everyone that morning and Tom Riddle had been placed in custody.

The Horcrux in Harry had been destroyed and harry woke up the next day, thankfully, to everyone's amazement. They had snapped Tom's wand, which he didn't really care about all that much, and had his magic bound before the Savior of the Light was able to see him again; even after he had insisted Tom had changed. It would seem that no one would trust him fully. It didn't matter though, because after Harry had gotten custody of tom they began their relationship; a real relationship.

As for why they were in a cottage in the middle of no where? They both decided that after all that has happened, they needed a little break from magic and the ministry. They were no longer soul bound, and the scar on Harry's head was barely visible now. Most important? they were happy and expecting something soon.

"Hey Tom..." Harry said absent mindlessly as he rested his head against Tom's knees.

"hmm?"

"i never really had the courage to ask you but... what gave you your appearance back anyways?"

"Oh that? i destroyed my own Horcrux's." the silence following Tom's answer was pregnant and Harry turned to Tom, now on his knees.

"Do you think...?" The younger man said, tilting his head a little to be cute. Tom smiled.

"No, Love. You gotta keep in mind that Poppy said you can't be doing that right now." Harry pouted cutely and stood, only to plop himself in toms lap. Tom chuckled and snuggled into his lovers back.

"Do you think we'll make good parents?" Harry asked, guiding Toms hands over his stomach where their twins lay, getting ready to join the world. Tom hummed as he placed his chin on Harry's shoulder.

"I suppose so... i mean, we both know what we'd have wanted in parents..."

"No, no, no. i'm being serious here" Harry said, chuckling lightly.

"I know, love. i know." Tom kissed Harry's neck and pushed him off his lap, "Come on, time for your nap or Poppy with have my head." Harry raised his eye brow but followed Tom anyways.

As harry sat down on the bed he grabbed Toms hand. Tom looked at him questioningly, and when Harry kissed his palm, Tom understood.

"Don't fret, love. i'm just going to the loo. I'll be back soon." with a smile Harry nodded and got under the blankets.

True to his word, Tom got in beside Harry and they snuggled once more.

"Did you think of any names yet?" Tom asked, strocking harry's wild hair.

"I don't know... i was originally going to name them after War Hero's but then thought against it. i mean, who would want a dead persons name?" Harry asked, looking into Tom's eyes.

Tom smiled and said, "well? How about this; you name the first and i'll name the second" Harry pondered Tom's words then Nodded.

"If its a girl i'm naming her Iris Rose, if its as boy, i'm naming him Tyus Severus." harry smiled innocently at Tom and tom raised an eyebrow, waiting for Harry to answer to unvoiced question. "I like flowers, and when i think of our child, i chose your favorite and compared it with mine... as or the boy i like the way it flows... and you gotta admit, Severus is a pretty cool name." Harry felt childish for say that, so he hid his embarrassment in the chest of his love.

"For a girl.. hmm..." Tom had to think for a few moments and mentally nodded to himself for his choices, "Kyra Rae, Its short and simple... as for a boy... Salazar Jade. Just because." and he smiled at Harry who was giggling.

"Would your first born son be the new heir of Slytherin? d'you think?" harry asked, getting comfortable as he got more and more sleepy.

"No worries; I'll make sure the Chamber is never opened again." Tom whispered as he closed his eyes. Unlike Harry, Tom was still able to speak the snake language.

"Hey..." Harry muttered after a few moments of silence.

"hmm?"

"I love you..."

There was a small silence and only their breathing was heard. Harry didn't really mind of Tom didn't say it; He rarely did.

"I love you too, Harry."

But Harry absolutely loved it when he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: OKAY.
> 
> So to begin, i am actually scared to reread this. I have never read the things i wrote as a teenager. But i like the fact that i still wrote it. So Thank you in advance for your kind comments. :)
> 
> Its done. Today is when the magic ends and is sealed for good. the last Harry Potter movie comes out today, and i'm feeling kinda down because of that... maybe that's why this is kinda longer then i usually write... i unno.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this four years ago. Please be kind. :)


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